Waving, swaying, rustling,
Afternoon sunshine slanted and low,
Birds flocking on wires,
The tufts of grasses rise again,
September is flowing away softly on the wind,
Dreams start to take life and flight,
Turning inward we dance hypnotic,
A closeness of spirits drifts across our minds,
Bounty near and held in spectacle,
First dance of the Fall.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/02/2008
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